


Swap Papyrus and the Magic Flute

by SoulOfEmerald



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Flute - Freeform, Gen, Magic flutes, Story Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulOfEmerald/pseuds/SoulOfEmerald
Summary: Swap Papyrus manages to get his hands on a magic flute.  The things that follow are unpredictable.





	Swap Papyrus and the Magic Flute

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on a variety of randomized writing prompts. Each chapter will be based on a different prompt. Therefore, I'm about as clueless as to where the go as you are.
> 
> Today's prompt: write about an item you find mystical (flute)

The snow crunched underfoot as Papyrus made his way through the Snowdin Forest.  He didn't have a destination in mind, he just felt like going out on a walk today.  He had deviated from the usual path a little while ago, simply for the want of a change of scenery.  Or at least, the closest thing to a change he could find.  Who knows, he might find a patch of ground where he hadn't tread before, as unlikely as that would be.

His mind started to wander as he walked.  When was his brother going to get tired of wearing that costume he made him?  Who was that man behind the door, whom he talked with on lonely days?  And finally, when would everyone be free?

Papyrus stopped, sighed, and leaned up against a tree.  Free.  Generations of monsters had come and gone, and yet so few monsters left had ever experienced freedom.  So many young children were born in the stone cage they called the Underground, and what were they relying on to save them?  Queen Toriel, and the brutal slaughter of human children.  It was a horrible perception, but everyone knew it was the truth.  A whole kingdom centered around the act of child murder, and nobody ever questioned the morality of it.  Doing so would be like questioning their want of freedom, and everyone wanted freedom.  If they wanted their freedom, then they would have to make some exceptions to get it.

Papyrus reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.  His brother never wandered far from the main path, in case a human arrived.  And since the other monsters didn't care very much about his habits (or if they did, they kept their opinions to themselves), he was free to smoke as he pleased.  Not that he smoked a pack a day of course, but he didn't enjoy being pestered every time he pulled one out the package, like he was doing right then.  He held the cigarette between his teeth as he lit it, kept it there a second, then let it hover about an inch from his jaws.

He had been in that position for some time before he noticed the voices.  They were faint, only perceivable when the wind carried the sound to him.  But they were there.  Which was odd, for monsters rarely went this far into the woods.  Or was he not very far in at all?  He hadn't been paying attention.  Perhaps they were asking questions too, but sharing them with one another instead of contemplating them on their own?  Papyrus wondered in silence, before he finally decided to walk over and find out.

 

* * *

 

Papyrus wasn't a nosy guy.  He didn't want to listen in on their conversation.  He wanted to join if he could, but he wasn't going to linger if he couldn't.  He was much closer to the monsters now.  But after a while, he realized something.  The closer he got, the more that one of the voices sounded like his brother.  Yet, it somehow didn’t.  The other voice was one that he didn’t recognize.  He was close enough to understand their conversation at this point, although what they were saying made little sense.

“...Error hasn’t been this way in a while though, so that’s a plus.”  Said the strange, brother-like monster.

“That’s always good to hear.  We don’t need another falling out with the Crayon Queen over Blueberry again.”  The stranger replied.

Papyrus inched around an old tree, aged to the point of being near incapable of holding needles.  He froze when he realised that the duo was much closer than he thought.  They had been standing directly across from the tree, to be exact.

The strange monster turned out not to be a monster at all, but instead a human.  He stood regally, his very presence commanding respect, even though his left arm was filled with a bucket of popcorn.  Papyrus couldn’t care less about that though.  What fully caught his attention was the skeleton standing beside him.  He was right about it sounding like his brother.  He had sounded like his brother, for it  _ was _ his brother.  But yet, just like his voice, they were still different.  This brother was slightly taller than Papyrus’s, and wore a sash with paints lining the sides and varying shades of brown instead of a light blue bandanna.  A paintbrush that was almost as tall as he was was strapped to his back, which most likely explained the splotch of black paint along his cheekbone.

“Sheesh, that was a disaster.  Almost started a war.  We still have to be careful though, the new guy’s made by her as well.”  Said the strange Sans.

The human nodded.  “She’s everywhere, isn’t she?  Feels like you can’t walk five steps without smelling her crayon smoke.  Anything else to re-”  The human noticed something orange in the corner of his vision.  He turned towards Papyrus, and his eyes filled with panic. “-WOAH WOAH WOAH!  YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!  OUT!  YOUR PRINCE COMMANDS IT!”

Papyrus felt his body move without his input.  Despite not wanting to, his legs forced themselves to turn around and start heading back towards where he had came.

“Wait, halt!” called the human.  Immediately, Papyrus stopped walking.  He was glad to be in control of himself again, until he realized he couldn't even turn around.  He was frozen in place.  He heard the sounds of approaching footsteps, stopping only when they were right beside him.

“When I snap my fingers, you will forget everything about this encounter.  You will go home, lay down on the couch, and fall asleep.  When you wake up, you'll-”

“Wait.”

More footsteps.  Lighter this time, the footfalls of a monster without muscle or skin to make heavier ones.

“What do you what, Ink?”

“You did this during the Error case, remember?”

“So?”

The skeleton that had apparently taken up the name Ink walked into Papyrus's line of sight.

“Papyrus.  When you think of the name Error, what do you picture?”

Papyrus closed his eyes.  Somewhere, deep in his mind, he saw the foggy memory of a skeleton monster.  The monster’s bones were a stark black, with occasional red, yellow, white, and blue splotches.  If there was any more to the monster's markings, Papyrus couldn't make them out.  He listed off the details as he recalled them, Ink nodding as he went.

He heard the human growl.  “What's your point?”

Ink turned to face the human.  “Your last attempt at erasing his memory failed.  If you were to try again, he'd still remember us too.  Wouldn't it be a bit more wise to have a lookout to tell you if something's up than to erase his memory over and over?”

“But what if he blabs to the others?”

Ink looked back at Papyrus with concern, then quickly replaced that concern with a look of seriousness that would cause even the most rebellious of monsters to sit still.  “How about this.  If you don't tell, then I'll give you something in return.  A special something.”

Papyrus wasn't planning to tell anyone about this, but who could say no to an offer for free stuff when the goal you must achieve is one you're already working on?

“sure.  i’ll accept.” he answered.

Ink chuckled.  “See, Prince?  That wasn't so difficult, now was it?”

“Alright, fine.  You win.  But if he tells a single living thing about me, I'll kill him right then, I swear to it.”  He didn't seem to be kidding.

Ink didn't reply, but instead took his paintbrush and used it to paint something that looked like a black case on nothing but air.  When he moved his paintbrush away, he slipped his hand into the case’s handle and pulled it down with ease.  Ink had to move Papyrus's arms due to him still being frozen, but when his arms were in place, Ink set the case in his hands.

The human joined Ink in Papyrus's field of vision.  “You are dismissed.”

Papyrus tried to turn the case over in his hands, and succeeded.  After a quick sigh of relief, he further inspected the case.  It was about a foot long, and three inches tall.  He found the case’s hatch, then opened it.  Inside soft lined pockets rested three pieces of metal.  All of them seemed to be hollow.

“It's a flute.” Ink said, unsure if Papyrus knew what a flute looked like.  Papyrus knew what it was, but he wasn't one to interrupt.  “A magic flute, to be exact.”

Papyrus chuckled.  “A magic flute, eh?”  He examined the instrument some more, then closed the container, which made a professional sounding click as the hatch slipped shut.  He looked up, planning on thanking Ink and the human for the gift.

But there was nobody there.


End file.
